


Nine Lives

by sophiacrutchfeild



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: #beta'd by reallyfreakinclever and chatbug-jk, #don't worry, #i mean he doesn't get better but, Adrien's a zombie, F/M, Zombie AU, art by toriistorii
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 18:26:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 19,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12917661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiacrutchfeild/pseuds/sophiacrutchfeild
Summary: It was nine in the morning on a Tuesday when everything Adrien had rationalized was destroyed.





	1. Chapter 1

It was nine in the morning on a Tuesday when everything Adrien had rationalized was destroyed.

 

He’d left the manor, out on a supply scout. It was safer for him than anyone. He wouldn’t be attacked… at least, not by the zombies. And he knew that nobody would complain when food appeared in the fridge at home. They might wonder where it came from, but as long as he kept everyone safe and cared for, they wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth and try to find out who their caretaker was.

 

This was a very good thing, since his manor was maybe the safest place in Paris at the moment, and he doubted any of his tenants would stay if they knew the truth.

 

He slid in through the broken window of an old house, empty and abandoned, and set about opening the cupboards, hoping that the family who’d once lived here had left behind something. A half-full box of crackers. About twenty cans of soup- jackpot. And plenty of ramen. Whoever lived here hadn’t been doing much cooking.

 

He loaded the goods into his bag, humming to himself… until he heard a noise.

 

He turned, and dropped the can.

 

Pretty blue eyes. Dark hair, pulled into two pigtails. A red cloth mask. Ladybug, aiming a gun at his head

 

If she decided to kill him, he wouldn't stand a chance. He couldn’t stop bullets, and he knew she never missed. He’d made sure of that. He backed away, raising his hands in surrender. "Please," he whispered. "Don't kill me. I haven't hurt anyone." 

 

Her eyes widened at his words, as she stepped back, but kept her weapon trained on him. "You can speak," she remarked, not looking away. Her eyes glinted with curiosity, as she tilted her head. “Explain yourself, monster.”

 

He cringed back. "I... I don't know," he rubbed the back of his neck, where the skin had worn away. If he died now... before, of course it was worth it. She’d always be worth it. But now, for no reason, when he had people to protect? He closed his eyes, taking a breath. “I’m begging you not to kill me. Please. I… I don’t understand it any more than you do. But I haven’t hurt anyone, and I won’t-”

 

“Shut up,” she ordered. Adrien shut up. She ran a hand through her hair, taking a breath. “You aren’t alive. No matter what I do, I won’t be killing you. You’re nothing. You're a parasite. A pathetic, inhuman creature with enough of a mind to think you can lie and snivel your way out of being killed." 

 

This would have hurt a lot if he wasn't familiar with her mantras. Her whispered justifications each time they went up against a zombie, reasons why they had to die. She was trying to talk herself into pulling the trigger. He reached up, wrapping his rotting fingers around the hand that held the weapon.

 

"I'm not," he murmured. "I'm a person, just like you are. I never hurt anyone. I'm not a threat.” He had always thought the next words would be said in a moment of drama or romance, not while she aimed a gun at his head… “My name is Adrien Agreste."

 

Her eyes went wide, as she slowly lowered the weapon. "Adrien?"

 

He nodded. “So you knew me.”

 

She clenched her teeth, and closed her eyes, shaking. “You… you…”

 

“I never hurt anyone. I kept my mind. Don’t.”

 

She took a long breath. “Get your hands off me.”

 

“Okay,” he stepped back. “Anything you say.”

 

“Stop talking, stand still, and in three seconds, I’ll either shoot you or not.”

 

“No,” he shook his head. “No way. I’d be an idiot to do that. And I’m not gambling with my life, I have people who need me to stay alive. I have to.”

 

“Stop saying that. You don’t have a life, you’re not-”

 

He turned, and continued putting cans into the bag. “I’m intelligent. Not very, but I mean, I’m at normal human levels. I’m a person. If you destroy me for something I can’t control, that’s unprovoked murder. But if you were going to, you would have by now.”

 

She watched him carefully. “Okay. You said… you said people were counting on you. Prove it, and I’ll let you exist. Under my supervision. If you hurt anyone, you’re gone.”

 

He smiled gently… well, as gently as he could with the corner of his mouth ripped. “Those are terms I can agree to.” He offered his hand to shake, skin peeling from the bone, and half a finger missing.

 

She cringed back, but closed her eyes and took it. “You’re really Adrien?”

 

“I really am.”

 

“Okay,” she took a slow breath. “Anyone else would be destroyed by now.”

 

“Guess I’m special.”

 

“Guess so.”

 

He smiled at her, and for a moment, he felt alive.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

It was a tense walk to the manor, that couldn't be denied.

 

Her mind was reeling as she gripped her gun, hands shaking slightly. Adrien. Everyone she could have run into, and it just had to be Adrien. He looked back at her, and she felt like she was going to be sick, seeing the one eye that hadn't rotted, watching her with this emotion that zombies should not be capable of. "You're staring," he commented. "I know I'm a model and all, and it can be hard to take your eyes off me, but it's still a bit rude."

 

She raised the gun, glaring at him... it. She took a deep breath, trying to focus. There was almost no chance that it was still Adrien in there. Just a zombie with a thread of intelligence left. "Shut up before I blow what's left of your brains out."

 

He rolled his eyes... well, one of them. She shivered slightly as he turned back, revealing the vertebrae at the back of his neck. It looked painful, and god, she really hoped he wasn't conscious, and didn't feel as his body rotted. "You know," he mentioned conversationally, "I think it's kind of funny how you keep threatening me. You're not the easiest person to deal with, are you? In any case," he stopped at the gates of the manor, scanning his eye and opening the gate. "Welcome."

 

"How do you plan on getting in and out once that rots?" she arched an eyebrow.

 

"I'll figure it out," he shrugged. "Ladies first."

 

"I am not turning my back to you."

 

He ran a hand through his hair, and she noted that, while it was notably thinner than before, it seemed clean, at least. "If I wanted to kill you, wouldn't I have made a move by now?"

 

She pointed the gun at him, and he went through the gate first.

 

 

The halls of the manor smelled like decay, and Marinette was pretty sure she saw a smear of blood on one of the walls. "Now, remember," he turned to her outside of one of the doors. "You do not tell them that I'm running this place. I know how people's minds work. They'll turn down things they need for an imagined safety. People have died of dehydration in the desert while carrying water. And people will leave this safehouse if they know it's being run by a zombie."

 

She glanced in through the door. "How do I know you won't eat them?"

 

"Ladybug. That's repulsive."

 

"So are zombies," she muttered, opening the door, and entering the library of the manor, leaving Adrien in the hall.

 

The first thing one would notice about the room was the beds. There were over ten of them, with mismatched bedclothes and pillows. What space wasn't filled by beds seemed to have other furniture or appliances, or people. Marinette realized very quickly that there was going to be a very big problem if Adrien wasn't trustworthy-there were sixteen people in just the library of the manor, more than any other safehouse she'd been to held in totality.

 

A zombie was running the largest shelter from the apocalypse in the city.

 

The first person to notice her was a tiny girl, who jumped up from her seat, brown pigtails bouncing. "Who're you?" she demanded loudly.

 

Every head in the room seemed to turn at once, although Marinette was aware that that was probably in her mind. She waved lightly, biting her lip. "U-um... hello everyone. It's good to see you?"

 

"Ladybug?" a voice came from the corner. Wide hazel eyes behind a thick pair of glasses stared up at her. "You're Ladybug, right?" Alya strode across the room, grinning brightly. "Alya Cesaire, big fan!"

 

She blinked, taking a half-step back. "Fan?"

 

"Of your work? Your fighting?" Alya tilted her head.

 

"My girlfriend's almost as big a fan as me, we've been doing some hunting ourselves lately! Nothing as cool as you of course..."

 

"Cool?"

 

Alya tilted her head. "Yes. Saving the world is cool. Have you not heard this before?"

 

Marinette rubbed her forehead, sighing slowly. This wasn't how she'd expected to meet up with her best friend after months of fighting zombies. Suddenly, something else Alya had said clicked. "What girlfriend?"

 

She ran a hand through her curls, grinning. "She's a huge fan of yours. Not as much as me, but close. C'mon, she'll be dying to meet you!"

 

"I need to, um-" Marinette pulled her hand away. "There's... person... dead... I gotta..." she shook her head, feeling overwhelmed. Fans. She had fans. And Alya was dating. And she had fans? Since when?

 

"Okay," Alya grinned. "But can I please get an interview later? I've been recording the whole zombie outbreak."

 

Marinette nodded, stumbling out of the room, and looking up at... Adrien's smug face. "Shut up."

 

"I get to live, right?" he tilted his head. "That... 'lived' up to expectations?"

 

She slowly looked up at him, somehow managing to look so proud of himself despite only having about two thirds of his facial features. A smile slid over her lips, giving way to a half-choked laugh. If anyone were to ask her later, she'd say it was the stress getting to her, no, she was absolutely not laughing at one of her old friend's shitty puns, he was a zombie, she wasn't laughing.

 

And when he smiled at her, the smile that, despite being way too wide on one side, was familiar, her heart didn't beat faster. That would have been disgusting.

 

 

"C'mon," he offered a hand. "I know you're tired. I can get you your own room, with a shower and clean sheets and everything. I'll even give you a padlock for the door."

 

She sighed, taking his hand and trying not to cringe at the feeling of flesh and bone rotting away. "No padlock needed. You proved yourself, I guess. If they aren't dead yet, I won't be either."

 

His smile grew wider, with his good eye lighting up as he squeezed her hand slightly, and she tried not to shiver. "I won't let you down, my Lady!" he promised, pulling her down the hall to a room. She blinked in mild astonishment, clenching her teeth and trying to figure out why those last two words made her heart twist so painfully...

 

Oh. Right.

 

Chat.

 


	3. Chapter 3

It had been two weeks since everything went to shit. Just two, but it was undeniable that nothing would ever be the same again. Her parents had been among the first to be turned, so she'd had to run from her own home, into the streets of Paris.

 

The city wasn't falling apart like in those old zombie movies. No, the buildings were fine, if a little dirty. Zombies weren't interested in tearing apart buildings, who knew? It still looked like her Paris, except that the streets were covered in corpses and if she went outside she stood a good chance of being torn to shreds. Honestly, Marinette was pretty sure she'd prefer if it didn't straddle that line between normal and horror. If it was all horror, she wouldn't have to deal with the part of her that kept thinking things could be like they were before.

 

She looked down at the mask in her hands, that she'd fashioned out of an old shirt. The zombies targeted people. If she could obscure her face, she might be a little safer. She tied it over her eyes, and took a deep breath.

 

There was a tapping at the door. "Please!" a voice called. "If anyone human is in there!"

 

She jumped up, looking to the window. A boy in a black mask, with a backpack, knocking at the door desperately. "Please!" he called.

 

She ran to the door, pulling in open. "Get in, quickly!" she ordered. He ducked in, and she slammed the door as he collapsed against a wall, gasping. She pulled the knife from her sleeve, pointing it at his neck. "Who are you?"

 

He looked up with wide green eyes. Pretty eyes. "I... I'm... Chat Noir," he said decisively. "My name doesn't matter. What matters is that I know how to beat the zombies."

 

She looked down at him. "Hey, Chaton. I'm Ladybug. How do you plan to do that?"

 

...

 

He gave her a weapon. It looked almost like a yo-yo, the way it was structured- but that wasn't important, because one touch of the weapon would kill the zombies. It was created from a cure, and, while nothing could bring the dead to life, this would extinguish the virus. He proved a half-decent fighter, with his own weapon, a long stick he wielded as if it were a sword.

 

During one fight, she couldn't help a flash of deja-vu, as he twirled the staff around a zombie's arm, hitting square in the chest.

 

"Disengage," she murmured. Adrien had shown her that move once... he'd probably been evacuated, she knew, with some of the other more prominent families. She hoped he had.

 

Chat glanced up at her. "What did you say?"

 

"Nothing!" she slung her weapon over his shoulder, taking out another zombie. "Stay focused!"

 

He nodded quickly, saluting. "Nice one, by the way!" he called, before twirling around, practically dancing as he wiped out the last three, and bowed before her, kissing her hand.

 

She couldn't help laughing, for maybe the first time since the city turned to hell. "Very elegant, Chaton."

 

He lit up at the nickname, beaming up at her. "Thanks, I took ballet as a kid. But you know," he got up. "I think you looked beautiful just now. When you were laughing. Hope you don't mind."

 

She smiled softly. "I don't mind."

 

...

 

He stood with her on a rooftop, smiling softly, a few weeks later. "My Lady?"

 

"Yes?"

 

"We're doing it. Surviving. Thriving. Winning."

 

She laughed softly. "I think we might be. Did you expect to last this long?"

 

He shook his head. "I knew I had to fight, but I thought I'd die for my efforts. This... this is incredible."

 

She squeezed his hand. "I'm proud of us."

 

"Ladybug?"

 

"Yes?"

 

"I promise, I'll get us out of this. We'll be safe one day, together."

 

She smiled softly. "Thank you, Chaton."

 

...

 

Three months passed together, and one night, Chat was acting strangely. He took her hand. "You know," he murmured. "You're my Lady. You're the one I belong to, okay? Even when I die, I'm yours."

 

She laughed. "That's adorable, Chaton."

 

"I'm serious," he met her eyes. "I love you. We've fought together for a long time. And I know you're going to get out of this."

 

She frowned. "We both will. You promised me, remember?"

 

He hesitated, and leaned in, kissing her softly, gently. "Promise you won't give up, no matter what happens. I need you to swear to me, my Lady. Please."

 

She laughed softly, "What's gotten into you? Of course I promise, Chaton. I love you too." She kissed his cheek. "We're going to be happy together someday."

 

He nodded slowly, closing his eyes. "Maybe someday," his voice sounded strangely choked as he hugged her. "Goodnight, my Lady. I love you more than the world."

 

...

 

She woke to find a black mask in her hand, along with his staff, and a red rose. She couldn't imagine where he'd found it, but she knew, as she held the mask close, heart pounding- he didn't intend to come back.

 

She felt the tears stream down her face, her own mask wet with them. "Chaton," she whispered. "What did you do...?"

 

...

 

Now, Adrien was holding her hand in rotten fingers, and her heart was beating too fast. He wasn't. He wasn't. Thinking he could be was an insult to her partner's memory. Chat wasn't one of the monsters. Chat would die before letting himself be turned. She yanked her hand away, angry tears pricking her eyes. "Don't call me that," she hissed. "I am not your Lady. I'm his. I'm his." She took a deep breath.

 

Adrien was staring at her in shock, looking slightly hurt. "Am... am I allowed to ask whose?"

 

"Chat's," she looked up. "I'm Chat Noir's Lady."

 

She was unprepared for the way his face lit up... half-cute, half-disturbing. "After all this time?"

 

"Of course," she snapped. "It's only been a month. He could still come back. And if... when he does, I'm going to be here. I'm going to be his. So don't expect anything from me."

 

He nodded, smile fading. "Right. Okay." He brought her to a room. "Hope you sleep well."

 

"Thanks," she murmured. God... Adrien. And acting so very... Well, so very Adrien. What did she do to deserve this?

 

As he closed the door, she knew she wouldn't be sleeping very well at all.


	4. Chapter 4

He got to work preparing the cans into a meal, in the kitchen. With the long gloves he wore for cooking on, he could almost pretend he was human.

 

He hummed softly, trying to ignore the way he could smell her flesh two rooms away, and hear her heartbeat. He stirred the pot of old clam chowder slowly, closing his eyes... and feeling that strange sensation yet again when one refused to move. It wasn't quite pain. No, pain would be the wrong word for what this was... it was more like... the feeling he used to get when he'd miss a step at the top of the stairs, that jolt of wrongness when his foot fell through air. Not pain. Just a sort of betrayal of reality, a feeling of things being...

 

The timer went off on the stove, and he headed down the stairs, pouring the soup into the bowls on the long table that used to only feed one person.

 

"You're too nice, Adrien."

 

He turned, smiling at her in the doorway. "I think I'm the perfect amount of nice," he laughed lightly, continuing to ladle out the soup. "Anyway, what else is there to do? Hole myself away and just rot? I'd go crazy."

 

She nodded slowly. "Yeah, of course. Look, I wanted to apologize for how I've treated you today," she rubbed the back of her neck. "You're..."

 

"A pretty good cook for a rich kid?" he smirked. "Don't worry, I made enough for you to eat too."

 

"That is so not what I was going to say!" she pulled back, laughing, shaking her head. "No, I was going to say... you're a good guy. Really good. And you don't deserve what's happened to you, and you don't deserve the way I reacted to it."

 

"I'm glad you acted the way you did," he met her eyes. "It's what's kept you alive this long." Well, that and him. But it wasn't like he was going to say that.

 

She couldn't know he was Chat, he reminded himself. It would break her heart.

 

But she was standing before him now, looking so awkward, and so lonely, that he couldn't help but jerk his head for her to come over. "I could use some help serving this?"

 

Her eyes widened, and she jumped up, grabbing a ladle and racing to start filling plates. He couldn't help but smile.

 

"Done!" she cried, turning to him with a cheeky smile. "You know, Adrien, you should have just asked for help to begin with, I'm a strong fighting machine, and well..."

 

He raised an eyebrow. "And I'm a trained athlete with added zombie strength? Yeah, you're way stronger than me, I'm sure."

 

"Well, I mean, maybe not, but..." she shrugged, tossing a ponytail over her shoulder. "I'm still pretty damn strong. I ripped a zombie's head off with my bare hands last week."

 

He dropped his ladle into the soup pot. "Why the hell were you close enough to one of them to grab its head? Are you crazy? You could have been bitten! Why didn't you just use the weapon?" He shook his head, remembering that he wasn't supposed to know about that. "I mean, the gun- the gun is much safer to use long-distance, and I know you have good aim..."

 

She was frowning now. "You don't know what you're talking about," she shrugged, turning away.

 

The doorbell rang.

 

He clenched his teeth and took a breath. "Would you mind getting that? If anyone asks, just pretend you're the one running it? Please. Look, I know you might not-"

 

"Fine," she cut him off. "I'm fine. I'll do it."

 

He nodded, smiling softly. "Thank you."

 

...

 

Marinette looked at the door, and the shadow behind it, and felt a sense of foreboding. She knew why she'd agreed- Adrien was her friend once, and clearly he was suffering. She'd do a lot to alleviate some of that... at least, now that she was reasonably sure he really was Adrien in there.

 

The doorbell rang again, and she pulled the yo-yo from her pocket, stepping back as she swung it open...

 

To face a very tired-looking, gaunt-faced Gabriel Agreste.

 

"Let me in," he spoke firmly, straightening his tie- a very pointless move, considering the dirt and tears in his outfit that could not be overlooked for the sight of a straight tie. "Let me in, I need to see my son."

 

She stepped back, holding the door open. "Mr. Agreste, I... I regret to inform you that your son..."

 

"He's still alive," Gabriel strode through the manor. "Even if he was infected, I know he's still alive. Adrien!" he called out. "Come to the foyer at once!"

 

"Mr Agreste!" she slammed a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. "Look, I'll take you to him! But don't shout his name, the others could hear you!"

 

The man raised a long, thin eyebrow. "Others?"

 

Marinette nodded quickly, straightening her mask nervously.

 

"That yo-yo," he murmured suddenly. "Where did you get it?"

 

"Ask Chat Noir, he gave it to me," she shrugged, shoving it deep in her pocket. Something about this whole situation set her on edge. "Now do you want to see your son or not?"

 

He dipped his head sharply, and it took her a moment to realize that it was his version of a nod. "Immediately, if possible."

 

"Then c'mon," she took his hand, pulling him to the kitchen, "but if you hurt him, I shoot you in the skull." She swung open the door, shoving the man inside.

 

As Adrien turned, his face- if it were possible for a zombie- went pale, as his bad eye loosed from its socket, falling to the ground. "F-father?" he stammered out, taking a step back. "What are you doing back in Paris? I thought you were evacuated!"

 

"I was," Gabriel nodded slowly, eyes suddenly looking very sad. "I was on the train. When I went to your compartment to check on you... do you know how worried I was?" He strode across the room, wrapping his grotesque son in a tight hug. "I'm so sorry," he murmured. "Adrien, you will never know how sorry I am that I couldn't protect you."

 

"Father..."

 

Marinette shrunk back against the doorway, relatively certain she wasn't supposed to be seeing this, until Gabriel stepped back, looking to her. "You two children should never have been the ones doing the fighting," he declared. "And from now on, you're both under my protection. I'm going to fix this. So," he smiled at Marinette. "If you would please hand over that Miraculous weapon, it'd be greatly appreciated."


	5. Chapter 5

She stepped back, hand going to her yo-yo as she shook her head slowly. "No, Mr. Agreste. I'm sorry, but that's not happening."

 

Adrien glanced between them, and forced a nervous smile, tilting his head. "Haha, Father, I'd like you to meet Ladybug," he gestured to her in a way he desperately hoped wouldn't be seen as rude by any party. "She's a renowned hunter, and is more than capable with any weapons. I trust her." He looked to Ladybug quickly, flashing a smile. "She's a friend."

 

"I held a gun to your head this morning."

 

He sighed softly. Why couldn't she let him talk her out of trouble without contradicting him? "A... violent friend, but a friend nonetheless." 

 

Gabriel didn't seem very convinced. "I am certain that Miss... Ladybug? Is a very capable young woman, but this is a job for trained professionals." 

 

"Four thirty two." 

 

Adrien sighed softly, having a pretty good idea what that number was, and how his father would react to it. "What she means to say is, she's got more field experience than your people, and-"

 

"Four thirty two what?" Gabriel frowned down at her, ignoring Adrien completely. Well, at least some things were the same as before the monsters. 

 

"I've killed four thirty two monsters as of last night," she raised an eyebrow. "I'm out there every day, fighting. You just showed up, and I don't give a shit what you are in the rest of the world." She stepped up to him, barely coming up to his chest, but eyes blazing with enough of something Adrien wasn't sure he could describe to anyone who hadn't fought against unbeatable odds and won, that Gabriel was forced to pull away, startled. 

 

He took a deep breath, and nodded. "Alright, little Lady. Keep it. But if you aim it at my son, ever, so help me." 

 

She nodded calmly. "Glad we agree, Mr. Agreste." 

 

Adrien rolled his eye, stepping between his father and his ex-partner. "Can you two please stop with the pissing contest now?" 

 

They stared each other in the eye, neither wanting to be the first to back down. Adrien couldn't help but feel exhausted. The two most stubborn people in his life... and both of them had to show up, together, within twenty four hours of each other. 

 

He was elated, of course, but this wasn't going to be exactly... well, exactly easy. 

 

"Please?" he murmured, looking down. "Just try to get along?"

 

They snapped their necks toward him at the same time, and his unnecessary breath caught at the sudden scent of life pulsing from their throats. He closed his eye for a moment, and then gave his best model smile... and watched them both cringe. That wasn't exactly the reaction he was used to, and not the one he wanted. "We're getting along fine," Ladybug gave him a clearly forced smile. "Don't worry so much, Adrien." 

 

"Yes, it can't be good for you," his father gave a tight smile. "We wouldn't want to put any more stress on your body than we need to. Okay?" 

 

He crossed his arms. "Yes, I'm rotting. That doesn't mean you have to treat me like a child."

 

"You are a child," his father snapped. "Don't be so... blasé, you aren't rotting, you're just... sick."

 

He raised an eyebrow. "Not my point. Anyway, look, you're both amazing. You're both needed right now. So please stop forcing me to be the mature one, since we all know I'm the least qualified person for that position. Ever."

 

"He has a point," Ladybug mumbled. 

 

"Don't encourage him," his father snapped.

 

Honestly, Adrien actually wished this one thing could have changed. Being ignored by the people with all the power. "Fine," he rolled his eye for what felt like the hundredth time that night. "I'll be in my room. Dad, if you want food, there's soup in the pot and you know where the bowls are."

 

He slammed the door behind him, giving the dining room a wide girth, and fell into bed, in his favorite, overdramatic way. 

 

He hadn't realized exactly how much not looking beautiful effected things. He couldn't even use manipulation as a tool now. 

 

He got up, deciding he'd pouted enough, and climbed out the window, sitting on the ledge, overlooking the skyline. 

 

That hadn't changed much either.

 

"At least that's still beautiful," he murmured, trying hard not to be too bitter.

 

"You are too."

 

He turned, seeing Ladybug and his father in the doorway. "What are you...?"

 

"Adrien," Ladybug stepped closer to him. "You are beautiful, okay?"

 

He turned back to look at the city. "I'm not pouting about that," he swung his legs over the ledge. "I wouldn't pout over something like that. I just wish you two would put your egos aside so that we can use all the assets we have to end this mess. Can we do that please?"

 

"You're being rude, Adrien," his father raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on his shoulder. "But I suppose I can understand. This has been... hard on you, right?"

 

He looked up, and nodded. "Yes, Father."

 

"I'm proud of you," Gabriel smiled down at him. "You've taken an impossible situation and used it to do some good. It was reckless of you to leave the evacuation... and I can't say I'm glad you did it... but I'm still proud of you." 

 

He smiled up at his father, eye wide, hopeful. Gabriel forced himself not to cringe at the way the flesh twisted. It was not Adrien's fault that his mouth was ripped up to where his cheekbone stuck out, or that one of his eyes hadn't held up as well as the other. 

 

No, that was Gabriel's fault.

 

And he refused to let his kind, innocent son, who'd fought through hell and death and continued to help people, feel disgusting. He squeezed his shoulder, offering a warm smile.

 

And then the girl was wrapping her arms around Adrien from the back, hugging him close, even through the scent of death that no amount of showers could truly take away. "You're kind," she told him. "And honest, and brave. I promise Adrien, you're one of the most beautiful people I've met. I'll try and get along with your father."

 

He met the young woman's eyes, and nodded slowly. "We will work together. Things will be okay."

 

And they would. Because he would never let her get her hands on the cure. The cure that, if released, would surely kill his son.


	6. Chapter 6

Bridgette was bored out of her mind. There was nothing here, nothing to look at, nothing to care about, nothing to eat… God, she was hungry. “Félix, where are you?” she called, voice practically trilling.

 

The boy in question walked through the door, slamming it hard enough to dislodge Bridgette’s eye.

 

He caught it, rolling his own eyes, both still grey like iron, if a bit clouded, and pushed it back into her skull with a popping noise. “There were some kids,” he muttered. “Young. Too young. It wouldn’t be moral to go after them, are you going to be okay for a little bit longer?”

 

Bridgette groaned, slouching against the bed, pouting. “But I wanna eat, Fé!” she whined, tossing her hair, still impressively long, even in death, though perhaps not as shiny as it had once been. “You promised to get food.”

 

“Children aren’t food, Ponytails,” he muttered. “I get that we need to eat, but there are lines you don’t cross.”

 

“Great,” she closed her eyes. “Tell me you love me, Félix.”

 

He ran his remaining hand through his hair. “I think actions speak louder than words there. And mine have screamed.”

 

“Why won’t you say it?” she murmured, getting up and climbing over to wrap her decaying arms around him, biting her lip very softly, so as not to wear at the flesh. “I say I love you all the time. And I know you love me back, you need to, you’re not allowed to stop loving me darling, you can’t, right? I’m your everything. Aren’t I, sweetheart?”

 

He sighed, pushing her off. “My everything doesn’t exist. We’re dead. Love wouldn’t mean a thing. Stop pushing your luck and be glad I’m protecting you. If I changed my mind about that, how long do you expect you’d continue this existence?”

 

She sighed, looking away. “Agreste’s in town. Do you love me now?”

 

Félix’s eyes snapped wide. “Maybe. How do you know? Why didn’t you tell me immediately?”

 

“Because I’m hungry and bored,” she shrugged.

 

Félix pulled out of her grip, very carefully pulling her arms off of himself, not wanting to break her, but needing to get away, pulling on jeans, and a denim jacket- as he put it, “Have you ever tried to bite through denim? Being dead doesn’t give you amazing dental hygiene. Wear the fucking jacket Ponytails, I don’t care if it’s not fashionable.” The zombie-proofing had worked well… or would have, if it wasn’t for _him._ The man who’d claimed he had the vaccine, and used them as test subjects.

 

Gabriel Agreste.

 

Now it was more like preserving what was left of their bodies before they decayed into nothing, in the most hellish death possible.

 

“Where did you get the news that Agreste was in town?” Félix asked, tossing Bridgette the bag of clothing.

 

“I saw a plane land,” she explained, yanking on the oversized jeans, “and went to get a bite. But when he came out, he immediately dispatched seven of the brainless idiots, and I booked it out of there as fast as I could.”

 

Félix sighed softly, glancing around at the chaos as he stepped out. Such disgusting creatures, zombies. Pointless ones as well. Zombies didn’t help the ecosystem. They weren’t predators since, technically, they didn’t need to eat, and left behind their prey as soon as it stopped living. What a waste… The serial killer Albert Fish had taken nine days to eat the child he’d kidnapped and killed. If zombies were that efficient with their food supply, then there would be little issue- they could just be fed death row criminals or something.

 

But unfortunately, he knew it would never work like that. The first taste of human flesh was the most exquisite thing imaginable. It felt, for a moment, as if he once more had blood in his veins, flesh healing, life renewing. He felt whole when he fed on something living. His body did fix itself, a bit. But… once the screaming stopped, once the heartbeats were over, the healing would fade away, and it would be as disgusting as any other kind of cannibalism. Completely revolting and vile.

 

Zombies fed on life, not flesh.

 

He glanced back at Bridgette. Her skin was brittle, flaking away. Her eyes were dulled to a reddish color. Her hair was matted and her ribbons, broken. Her tiny stature made her seem vulnerable, broken.

 

She was the one woman he’d do anything for. Even die.

 

He took her hand in his, feeling the stub of his wrist acutely. “For the record, Ponytails?” he flashed a smile, teeth still as white and straight as ever- he had some standards, and personal hygiene was always going to be one of them, even if he had been turned into a zombie- and squeezed her hand slightly, not enough to hurt her. “I don’t think saying it or not saying it will make it any less true, and I’d prefer you not underestimate me either.”

 

With that non-confession, he pulled her out the door, ready to kill Gabriel Agreste for everything he’d done to them.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Adrien watched Ladybug awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, as she lay on his couch. "Well, you sure settled in fast," he murmured.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"That's what I thought you said." 

He shuffled over, sitting on the arm of the couch that her legs weren't dangling over. "Are you paw-sitive you're Ladybug?"

Her eyes were open in an instant, and a blade was pointed at his throat. Adrien fell off the arm of the chair, landing hard on the ground. He groaned softly, before scrambling back from the weapon. 

"Did you just...?" she was staring at him with those huge blue eyes of hers, filled with shock and something akin to hurt. "Did you just make a pun there? Or was I hearing things?"

He shivered in horror, good eye still focused on the blade. "What answer gets me not-stabbed?"

She frowned, sheathing the blade, and stepping close to him, before seeming to remember that he wasn't exactly something you wanted to see up close, taking a deep breath, and coming closer, leaning down so her face was inches from his own, and it'd be so easy to bridge the gap and kiss her, and wow she was really staring into his eye... or at his eye?

He was on thin ice with his secret, wasn't he? 

"You couldn't be," she said finally. "You couldn't. He would never have left if he could have stayed." 

Well that wasn't a shot right through Adrien's heart and soul. Not one bit. He didn't feel like a piece of shit who'd betrayed the girl who apparently had a hell of a lot of misplaced faith in him. "Couldn't be what?"

"My kitty," she replied simply, standing up and stepping away from him. "Chat Noir."

"He's missing, right?" he asked softly. She nodded. "I'm sorry."

"He was the dumbest cat I ever me," she scoffed, helping Adrien up and settling back down on his couch. "But also the most loyal. Bravest. Kindest. Most selfless..." she trailed off, biting hard on her lower lip. Adrien couldn't keep from wondering what it might be like, to bite Ladybug's lower lip. 

Or from feeling like he'd let her down. "You thought highly of him..."

"I did," she met his eyes. "He was a lot like you. But he had something to come back for. He had me, and I know he wouldn't have left me. Right? So you can't be him." 

Well that wasn't a guilt trip at all. 

"If he was changed," he said softly. "Maybe he'd have thought he was too dangerous to be near you. And once he figured out he wasn't... he might not have been able to find you. Or he'd have thought you'd kill him the second you saw him, and wanted to do some good still. Wanted to be worth something. And he wouldn't be able to help you if he wasn't sentient anymore..."

"Adrien, don't." 

He stopped talking, shrinking away from her. 

She stood, meeting his eyes. "I loved you once, you know? A long time ago. We were classmates and I loved you."

"That's over now," he smirked slightly. 

"Not really, no. You're making it happen all over again. And I hate you for it." She got up, walking over and putting a hand to his chest. "Because you will never be mine."

"You don't want a heart that's never going to beat again. A still heart." he looked away, feeling said heart break. "Why are you telling me this, Ladybug? I already knew it wasn't happening, why are you telling me it might've if I wasn't like this? I can't change back. It doesn't matter. It's like you just want to have some kind of tragedy here. But I don't want to be the Lenore in your story."

She stared at him for a moment, shaking her head slightly. "Adrien..." 

"I'm going out, Ladybug," he turned away. "I'm going to try and find some food and water. And maybe some clothes, the people here could use new ones-"

She grabbed his arm, pulling him close and kissing his cheek, the one that wasn't falling apart. "Please, wait."

"I said no, Ladybug," he pulled away again, sharper this time. "It's the apocalypse. There isn't time to play mind games. I have people to take care of. Let me go." 

She let go of his wrist. "I didn't mean..."

"I know you didn't. Don't worry about it," he offered a half-smile. "I understand. But I don't want to be a part of this." He left her in his room, wanting to clear his head... 

As soon as he walked out of the door, two zombies stepped out from either side, moving with an eerie grace that no undead were meant to possess. "Adrien, right?" the boy said, a tall, thin creature with one hand, and most of the flesh from his jaw missing. "Adrien Agreste?"

"You talk?" he stepped back. 

"Of course we talk," the girl, tiny, soft, and rancid, with blood soaked eyes and worm eaten flesh, said, her voice like wind chimes that were just off-key. "We're just like you, Adrien. Monsters of your father's creation." She ran a finger down his arm. "Have to say, though, you've held up far better than we have. What's it like, the luxury of preservation? How lovely is a life after death, derived of rot and ruin?" 

He pulled away, his arm grabbed by the boy. "Where's your father, hmm? We know he's back. We want to have a little talk with him about experimenting on minors. Or humans in general." 

"Experimenting...?" Adrien shook his head. "My father's a fashion designer. What are you talking about?" 

"You don't know?" the girl gave the most terrifying smile Adrien had ever seen. "Look, Fé, he's clueless!"

"Or lying," the boy- Fé?- responded. "Are you lying to protect that man, Adrien?"

"We just want to talk, honest," the girl smiled again. Adrien didn't believe her. 

"Hey, I don't have a clue what you're talking about, but judging from her eyes, I don't think either one of you should be here," he said firmly. "I wish you both the best..." he started walking away. 

"Aw, look how cute, Fé! He thinks he can just walk away." 

Something hit through Adrien's shoulder, pulling him backward. The girl leaned over him. 

"You're not going anywhere."


	8. Chapter 8

Gabriel's heart nearly stopped when he heard the shouting. Adrien. 

He dashed out the door to see his son, held down by two... familiar-looking figures. "Ah! Here he is!" the girl's voice singsonged. "And here I thought we'd have to break this cute little monster just to get a polite conversation with you. How've you been, Gabriel?" She jumped up, draping her arms around his neck. "We missed you terribly after you... what was it he did again, Félix darling?"

Félix... ah. So that's who they were. 

"Bridgette, let Adrien go." 

"So you do remember me!" she trilled, pulling away. "Fé, look, he remembers us! Isn't that sweet?"

"That's exactly the word I would use," Félix said, in a very flat tone. "Sweet." 

Adrien stared at his father in shock, and mild horror. "Father, you know these people?" 

"Yes, Adrien," Gabriel sighed, rubbing his temple. "Don't worry, I won't let them hurt you."

"They already launched a grappling hook through my shoulder, you're a little bit late, Dad," Adrien snapped, getting more than a little fed up with being a prop for Ladybug, and his father, and now these psycho crazy zombies who for some reason believed that a fashion designer was responsible for the zombie apocalypse and were more than a little bit trigger happy. 

He could fight. Why didn't he? Because he was dead? Because he'd left behind his mask? 

"I won't let them do anything more," Gabriel promised. 

Well, that was certainly encouraging, Adrien thought. His dad, who had apparently somehow managed to piss off terrifying teenage zombies and let them put a hole in his son's shoulder, wasn't going to let them do anything that was actually worse than what they already had, great. That was just so wonderfully reassuring. 

As soon as Félix got off him, he jumped up, and slammed him over his shoulder and to the ground, eyes flashing. "You should have eaten more when you were alive," he snarked. "You're lighter than Ladybug." 

"You asshole!" Bridgette looked furious, racing to Félix's side. "Are you okay?"

He looked up, slightly stunned. "What just happened?"

Adrien grabbed Gabriel's arm, yanking his father back into the house and slamming the door shut. "Want to explain what just happened?" he asked, not looking up from the door. 

...

Félix frowned, rubbing the back of his head. "Holy shit, that little kid is strong."

"He's seventeen, just like you," Bridgette murmured. "Don't be too hard on yourself, a baby face doesn't mean a baby necessarily." She checked him over, eyes flickering blue in her worry. "Are you damaged? What hurts?"

"I'm fine," he murmured, getting up. "We're more durable than we used to be, at least..." he took her hand, meeting her eyes for a moment. "I failed you, Bridgette.”

“You didn’t fail me,” she shook her head. “No, honey, we can take him down, I promise. We’ll find a way. We can fight them, right Félix? And we can win! I believe in us! Don’t you?”

“Why are we even fighting a little kid?” he demanded. “We shouldn’t have tried to… he didn’t even know, or he didn’t appear to anyway. I think we screwed up, Ponytails…”

She took Félix’s shoulders, and looked him in the eyes. “Félix Malheur. If you give up on me now, after everything we’ve been through, I will not forgive you. Please, Fé… for us. For freedom. For justice?”

“This is justice?” 

Bridgette laughed bitterly. “Look at you. Look at me. And look at him.”

“Look at him,” Félix muttered under his breath. “Look at the boy betrayed by his father, the dead boy just like us. And look at you and me. Who should we be fighting? Him? Or his father?” 

“It’s the same difference!” Bridgette insisted. “Stop this morality gymnastics bullshit!”

There was a long pause. “You’re right,” he said finally. “It’s all the same. I need to keep a cool head about it.” He closed his eyes. “Sorry that I lost my cool, Ponytails. Lets go get a bite to eat.” 

...

"I have an explanation..."

"Great! Let's hear it!"

He heard footsteps, and saw Ladybug's cute little head poking around the staircase. "What's with all the shouting, is something wrong?"

"Yeah!" Adrien locked the door. "Yeah, something's wrong! I was running a perfectly sustainable operation before you two came in here and now suddenly, everything's huge and dramatic and I'm getting really, really sick of it all! I love you both, but you," he pointed to Ladybug, "need to stop moping around over things and get back to, oh I don't know, fighting the apocalypse? Just an idea. And you," he turned on his father, "had better explain right now what is going on with the two zombies who were somehow able to talk just like me, and claimed that you made them that way. Does this have something to do with that injection you gave me?" 

"Injection?" Ladybug frowned, furrowing her brow and turning to Gabriel. "Yeah, what's this about?"

The man looked slightly nervous for once, stepping back from the gazes of the two teenagers. "I didn't... I mean, that is to say, it was... not my intention to do anything that would hurt anyone..."


	9. Chapter 9

"Is this safe?" Dr. Tikki Luck asked, nervous and straight-laced as ever. "I don't think this is safe. It doesn't feel right."

"Cut it with your hippie crap, Tikki, we've gone over the calculations a million times," Dr. Mallory Plagg raised an eyebrow, running a hand through his dark curls. "Can't you just be happy? We've cracked the equation mankind has been searching for since death was found as inevitable. We have the cure to death, Ti! Look how damn beautiful it is!"

The dark grey mixture bubbled, thick and greasy and not particularly beautiful to anyone except Dr. Mallory Plagg.

Gabriel Agreste entered the room, jacket pressed, not a hair out of place, but with heavy rings around his eyes. "You have it? You actually have it? This will save Irene?"

"Well..." Tikki looked over the charts she'd drawn up. Something definitely felt off about this whole thing.

But hey, when a benefactor offers a starving ex-scientist who technically got her doctorate removed after being charged with manipulating minors into taking part in her experimentation a few million dollars if she can get a cure for death, no strings attached, and she's pretty sure that, morality taken away, she could do it... well, she takes the offer.

"It'll work," Plagg smirked. Tikki wasn't sure where, exactly, Gabriel Agreste had found the man, and she was quite sure she didn't want to. He terrified her sometimes, always overconfident, always reckless, and always way too smart. She had considered herself a mad scientist once, in a romanticized daydream, but the man who had been her partner these past months... he really was one. Genius. Terrifying. Brilliant.

"Dr. Luck?" Gabriel Agreste glanced at her for confirmation. She could understand why. After all, even knowing her past, it was easy to trust a sweet faced young woman with long red braids, bright blue eyes, tanned skin, and a sunny smile. A pretty girl like her, who could talk just about anyone into just about anything. She was the kind of person that people loved as soon as they met her, the intelligent, nice girl with the big ideas and rampant idealism...

Yeah, right.

"Operation Papillon is a go," she confirmed. "Death is but a cocoon, and soon, your wife will emerge as a butterfly, lovelier than ever before."

He nodded sharply. "Where is my Irene?"

Tikki hesitated, glancing at Dr. Mallory Plagg for the information. He rolled his eyes, and, carrying the mixture as carefully as a normal person might carry their firstborn child, led the two to a room where a woman was held in suspended animation, gold hair flowing gently. Gabriel approached the tank, reaching a hand out, pressing it against the glass. "Oh, Irene," he whispered. "My beauty. My angel. My light. I will keep the promise you begged me to make. I will bring you back from the dead..."

"Yeah, yeah, you're whipped and your wife was psycho, we get it," Plagg deadpanned. "Let's open 'er up, boys."

"Um, actually, I'm not a-"

"Fine, boys and girls and anyone else who wants to watch history be made."

"Thank you."

It was Tikki's personal opinion that Dr. Mallory Plagg had no room to talk about psycho, to be honest, but she wasn't going to judge his phrasing. After all, Irene had, apparently, been a bit... off.

She pressed a switch, and the tank began to drain, as it was opened, and Irene was laid out on the operating table. They wouldn't have much time, now that she was out in the open, as Plagg began filling the syringes, injecting them into the woman's heart, brain, and lungs. Tikki stepped back, glancing nervously at Gabriel Agreste. If this went south, they'd both be furious, and, as the least physically intimidating member of their little committee, she was getting worried for her safety.

"Irene," Gabriel whispered in the woman's ear. "Irene, my love. It's time to wake up."

Tikki could swear her heart stopped the second those acid-green eyes fluttered open, perfect red lips parting. "I'm hungry," the voice said, soft as a prayer.

Then her eyes locked with Tikki's and the last thing she could remember before everything faded to black was those perfect, perfect lips, as red as blood, tearing into her throat.

...

Adrien stood, shaking his head in horror, and denial. "N-no... no... it wasn't Mom... tell me it's some kind of joke! It has to be!"

Gabriel looked away. "I'm sorry."

"Dad, stop it!" Adrien shook his head, voice breaking. "Please! Tell me you're lying! Say it's a bad joke, that you're making fun of me, that I'm too stupid to understand what you're trying to tell me! Just say it wasn't our family that destroyed Paris, it was someone else's parents, Dad, just please don't say it was Mom..."

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Mr. Agreste," Ladybug looked furious, stepping in front of Adrien. "Don't you have any idea what you've done? The people you've killed, the lives you've ruined? How dare you come back to Paris? After you completely destroyed everything that was once good about this city, how dare you come back to it?"

Adrien knew he should be jumping to his father's defense, but he couldn't make himself move. He couldn't think straight. It wasn't his mom, it wasn't, it wasn't, this was all a nightmare or something except that...

Zombies didn't dream.

He looked down at his rotting hands, throat tightening. This was all because of his own parents. This torture was their doing. His father hadn't failed to protect him... he'd actually sent out the thing that led to his destruction.

"Adrien..."

"Please don't talk to me right now," he murmured. "I still need to go get supplies, I was caught off guard... you still haven't explained the zombies who attacked me..."

Gabriel cringed slightly. "It's a long story. In short, I was trying to get a cure made. They were a pair of teenage runaways on the streets. I offered them a place to spend the night if they submitted to testing..."

"I need to go," Adrien muttered, racing up the stairs to his room.

This couldn't be real...


	10. Chapter 10

Marinette shivered slightly. "Adrien?" she called, knocking at his door gently. "Adrien, please... let me in. You shouldn't be alone right now."

 

"Actually, I should," the voice came from inside. "For the record, I've been alone for months and I got by just fine."

 

She knocked at the door again. "Chat, let me in."

 

There was a silence. Then heavy footsteps, and a door creaking open. "Why would you call me that?"

 

"You're not subtle, Adrien," she sighed. "I could see you fighting through the window. That's three times now."

 

"Ladybug, I get that you think you're being cute, and you're normally adorable, but I just lost my parents. Maybe not literally, but..."

 

"You were there for me when I lost everything," she bit her lip hesitantly. "Why won't you let me be here for you now?"

 

He looked up at her, and for the first time since they'd come together, he really did look... dead. "Ladybug, please, can we do this some other time? I really don't want to deal with anything right now. I just want to sleep, but I can't. I want to get my mind off it, but the pain in my skull is a constant reminder of what I am and who exactly did this to me."

 

"Just... let me sit with you?" she reached to take his hand. "Please, Chaton..."

 

There was a weighted pause... before he sighed, and wrapped his fingers through hers, feeling like rot and blood. "Sit with me," he murmured. "But nothing more."

She followed him to the bed, settling down with him, and watching him carefully. She couldn't say that he looked like the boy whose face had once papered her walls, who'd offered an umbrella in the rain and always been so perfect, who had perfect curls and soft cheeks, the guy who fought in fencing bouts with clear, calm accuracy and bright, shining passion, and always had a soft, gentle smile, lips full and pink, teeth straight and white. He didn’t even really look entirely like the guy with the gold tangles and vivid eyes and constant smirk, the guy with the strong, calloused hands and light hair coating his arms, the guy who wore a mask, but still seemed to constantly radiate the kind of self-confidence that was regulated to those who were attractive enough to be entirely aware of it, nothing like the boy who'd come racing into her life and managed to save it, to make everything seem like it could be okay again, the boy who gave her hope in the despair, a light to reach for in the darkness. He looked like something dead. Something broken, and ugly. But it was still Adrien, even if the soft pink lips were rotten and ripped at the corner. Still Chat, even if the aura of self-confidence had vanished. And right now he needed her... or at least, she thought he did...

 

He glanced up at her. "You're staring again," he murmured. "You know, if you're just going to gawk, you didn't have to come sit here with me. I'm really not in the mood."

 

"I didn't!" she frowned, squeezing his hand. "I'm worried about you, Adrien. I care about you. You... are clearly hurting, and I want to help. I love you, Adrien. I really do, and I-"

 

"Ladybug, I said you can sit with me, not gawk at me and get into our relationship troubles! Look, I'm really tired. I'm exhausted, and I want to just... think things through. Can you give me that and not be paying attention to all our relationship... whatever it is?" he shook his head, withdrawing his hand. "Please."

"You're not-"

 

"No, I'm not. Whatever it is, I'm not. Glad we settled that, now can you please just let me be tired? I'm not ready for anything now. I don't want to be the zombie you're in love with."

 

"What about the man I'm in love with?"

 

He gave her a long, hard look. "Maybe tomorrow. Maybe even tonight. But right now, no, not that either."

 

She took a slow breath, glancing down, cheeks flushed with the awkward embarrassment that really wasn't supposed to be this weird, even if- to be frank- she had chosen the worst of all possible moments to get into relationship things. "Then be whoever you want. I'm here for you."

 

"Okay," he glanced away, crossing his arms. "Fine. I'm sorry. I'm just done with this. I'm done with the drama and it's just... too much, you know what I mean?"

 

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. Let's just..."

 

"Not think?"

 

"Not think."

 

They sat in silence for a moment, and then, Adrien glanced to her. "Thanks for caring about me."

 

"Of course. You're my kitty," she offered a half-smile, leaning her head on his good shoulder. "I'm always going to be at the door, waiting for you."

 

He smiled softly, and took her hand again. "I know. And I trust you to be my Lady. As long as you're willing to have me."

 

For a moment, Adrien really felt like he had a chance to rest in peace, together, with the girl who he adored.

 

...

There was something trembling under the surface, and Dr. Mallory Plagg knew what he was going to make of it. The cure lay just inside that manor. The cure that would ruin all his planning, all his work, all his dreams... all for nothing. He growled softly, running a hand down the rusted iron gate, and smiling a wicked smile. "Oh my, oh my," he murmured, letting his nails clink against the cold metal. "What a tangled web this is becoming, eh, Mr. Gabriel Agreste?" He closed his eyes, hearing the two zombies coming up from behind him. The children, he was pretty sure. "Hello, there," he murmured, spinning around, with a bright smile. "I heard from a little birdie that you two want revenge on Mr. Gabriel Agreste."

 

There was a hesitance in the boy's eyes, or what remained of them, but the girl with the ponytails nodded quickly. "Can you help us?"

 

"Oh..." Plagg looked down at his hands. "Can I."

 


	11. Chapter 11

Adrien watched her sleep. He swore it wasn't creepy, not really... or if it was, it wasn't his fault. She was the one who'd insisted on barging into his room and falling asleep in his bed, so all things considered, him watching her wasn't so horrible, he figured. He traced the edge of the bedspread he'd carefully pulled over her sleeping form, as sunlight spilled into thwe room. He honestly enjoyed the feeling of the light hitting his skin, it was indescribable. He was glad that light wasn't out of bounds to him, like so many movies would say it was... 

 

It might have been better for Paris as a whole if zombies burned in the sun. In fact, Adrien knew it would be, there would be less monsters on the streets, and it'd be a million times easier to kill them. Citizens of Paris could walk freely as long as the sun was out. He was really just being selfish, wanting the sunlight so badly... but if he got the sunlight anyway... he figured he was allowed to enjoy it. And it might mummify him, which, while still a breakdown of the body, would keep him from rotting. Rot was worse than ruin, in Adrien's opinion. At least with ruin, he'd keep his body parts... even gain a kind of immortality. What would it be like, living as a mummy for thousands of years, watching eons go by?

 

"Chaton...?"

 

He looked down quickly, smiling at Ladybug softly. "Hey, My Lady. Just thinking about the sun. You know, your eyes are like little skies?" he tilted his head, watching them. "And there's tiny little lights in your eyes. As if those little lights could be the smallest suns ever. Is that too creepy to say, or am I allowed to?"

 

She stared up at him for what felt like forever, and Adrien wondered if he might actually mummify by the time she said anything to him, before she closed her eyes, and nuzzled her head into his lap. "You're a weird kitty," she mumbled. "But I love you. An' I want you to be happy." She smiled softly. "Even though you're a dead kitty." 

 

"A... excuse me?" he tried to keep a laugh out of his voice. "I'm a dead kitty?"

 

"Yup," she yawned, wrapping her arms around his torso. "A pretty kitty, but still a dead kitty. Don't worry though, it's okay that you're dead, because I love you." 

 

If Adrien could have blushed, he certainly would have. "Can... can I take you up on that offer of being the man you love?" he stammered out, running a hand through her hair, nervously. 

 

"Mm-hmm," she murmured, opening one eye. "I'm mad at you for leaving. But it'd defeat the purpose to punish you by making you stay away from me. Right Chaton?"

 

He hesitated, before nodding. "You... um, you plan on punishing me, my Lady?"

 

"Uh-huh," she smiled. "You belong to me still. So that means I get to punish you however I wanna." 

 

He laughed softly, and stroked her hair. "Yeah, guess so... Hey, wanna help me get supplies today? Yesterday's mission didn't exactly go according to plan."

 

She laughed lightly, and god, Adrien could maybe get used to that. "Don't put rotty stuff in my hair, kitty..."

 

He rolled his eye, taking his hand away. "Yeah, sure... but you need to get up soon, I'm not doing everything by myself when I have an able-bodied, fighting machine teenage girl with amazing self-defense skills who can help me."

 

She moaned softly. "Noooo.... bad kitty. I don't wanna get up...."

 

"Who's the real zombie here?"

 

"Still you."

 

He chuckled, running a hand through his own hair, crying out in pain as the grappling-hook wound reopened. 

 

"Adrien!" she sat up instantly, checking his shoulder. "Are you okay? Where does it hurt? What did you do? Oh, I'm going to kill those stupid rotten things that did this to you, I promise-"

 

"Hey!" 

 

"What? Adrien, you're not stupid or rotten and you know it, now stop whining about it and tell me what hurts so I can try to figure out how to fix it!" 

 

He bit back a laugh, shaking his head. "I just tweaked it. Glad to see you're out of bed though, and maybe you'll be able to split the difference of what I could carry back, since, y'know, only one fully-functional arm and all?"

 

She rolled her eyes, coming down from her concern for him almost instantaneously. "Ugh. Fine. Can I use your bathroom? I'd really like to take the mask off to wash my face..." 

 

He nodded. "Sure, always. You said you were in my class, right?"

 

She frowned up at him. "Can it, Chaton. Yes, I was in your class. It's ironic and you know me and I know you and if I took my mask off in front of you there's a pretty decent chance you'd recognize me. But as much as I love and trust you- and I do- you're still a zombie, and that means that I can't let you see me, especially because of how much you care. What happens if you get the imprint, and lose your sanity? I can't have a zombie imprinted on me... especially you, since I highly doubt I could bring myself to kill you at this point. So if you figure out who I am, great, but I can't show my face to you. Ever."

 

He looked at her for a moment. "Yeah. I know. That's why we wear masks in the first place. I wasn't going to ask your identity, just if you missed it." 

 

She blushed, and Adrien tensed, knowing exactly what the red in her cheeks was, and the precise location of each capillary fueling it, and wishing desperately that he did not. 

 

"I... sorry," she stammered. "I'll be right back." 

 

With that, she slammed the door of the bathroom, leaving her zombie boyfriend standing, mildly annoyed, in his room, waiting for her return. 

 

Neither watched the window. 

 


	12. Chapter 12

The cure is in a small plastic bag. It doesn't look like very much, it isn't that much, for it to be worth anything at all, it'd have to be heavily diluted in something, evaporated, and airborne. There's very little chance of the cure working without the precise necessary conditions. 

 

Gabriel didn't bring his wife back from the dead by taking risks. 

 

The only difficulty is how, exactly, to be rid of the cure. He can't simply hydrolize it, no, it was designed not to break apart completely, so as to continue to work even in very low percentages. As far as he knows, there isn't a way he can break the chemicals bonding the cure without causing quite the explosion, which would likely hurt Adrien just as much as the cure itself would, and defeat the purpose of its destruction. So how was he supposed to destroy it? 

 

One might question why, exactly, Gabriel Agreste, whose wife and child were afflicted with a horrible disease, would want to destroy the cure to said disease. The answer to this was quite simple, actually- Gabriel's wife and child were, for all the world, dead. The only thing keeping them tied to their bodies was the precise nature of their disease, which was to say, the fact that they were afflicted was the only thing keeping them "alive." 

 

If the virus was cured, the bodies would no longer have anything powering them. 

 

The nature of the cure meant that, if distributed, no zombie would be spared its venomous destruction. An airborne cure would penetrate through all but the most airtight of facilities, and lord knew that suffocation would kill Adrien and Irene as horribly as the cure would, if not more so. 

 

But there wasn't a way he could think of to destroy it. It had been designed incredibly carefully, with every difficulty that could possibly be encountered in mind. They hadn't wanted there to be any chances. It was a miracle of modern engineering, really. The only difficulty was... well, that Gabriel didn't want it to be used. 

 

Never. 

 

He ran a hand through his hair, contemplating the bag. It was really too bad... everything done for this cure... those children he'd destroyed... for nothing. 

 

He shook his head, standing up, and stepping out. Burning wouldn't work. Water wouldn't work... but burying it in the earth might, if he got it deep enough in the Earth to never, ever be found again...

 

...

 

Adrien walked as briskly as he could manage, flashing a grin to his side. They really were running low on food, and if Paris' population hadn't been so dramatically decreased, he would be worried for the survivor's continued food source. As it was, however, there were thousands upon thousands of canned goods throughout the city... and perhaps a hundred or so survivors left. Eating would only be a dilemma in regards to the safety of procuring the food, not the existence thereof. 

 

"I'm thinking some fruit," Adrien grinned. "Maybe I can make a pie if you help me?" 

 

Ladybug looked surprised at the request, but smiled, and nodded. "Yeah, of course I can... I mean, not to brag, but I've been baking since I was in pull-ups." 

 

"That was, what, two years ago? Three?"

 

He regretted his smart remark as the sharp pain shot through his back arm. Her punches were a lot more potent with a rotting body. "Quit making jokes, Chat, we have work to do!" 

 

"Oh, now you care about the work we have to do," he muttered, rolling his eye, but following her. 

 

"So have you just been raiding random homes, or how are we doing this?" 

 

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, this you're going to love- I've been using an old supermarket lately." 

 

"Then why were you in a house when I found you?"

 

He shrugged. "I was desperate and didn't have the time to get to the market."

 

"Desperate?" 

 

He shrugged, looking down at what was left of his fingernails... which was quite a bit, actually, they had held up shockingly well for how much he tended to bite them. "I was hungry. I was looking for meat. Chewing on it keeps the hunger at bay, you know." 

 

She looked stunned, and unnerved. "Hunger? You mean... you mean, you get that? The need to...?"

 

"The need to eat human flesh? Yeah. I haven't given into it. I won't. But I'm usually hungry, I just try to ignore it, and I think I do a pretty good job at that..." he glanced up at her, trying to gauge her reaction, running through, in his mind, what would be safe and what would not. Disgust, confusion, or, if he was lucky, sympathy, would be safe-zone. Anger, fear, or confusion... not so much. He checked her eyes carefully. 

 

Sadness. 

 

He hadn't been expecting sadness. "My Lady? Are you alright?" he asked softly, offering her a hand.

 

She immediately grasped it, and squeezed it tight, hardly seeming to care how the flesh was melting away, a tiny muscle popping out of one of the broken fingers as she squeezed. "Only if you are. Adrien, how can I make this less horrible for you? Is there any way at all?" 

 

"Not if you want to keep everyone alive- and before you say something self-sacrificing and stupid, you do. You really, really do," he offered a half-smile. 

 

"I do," she murmured, holding onto his hand tightly. "But I... I love you, Adrien." 

 

If his heart had still beaten, it would have stopped at those words. "You love me?"

 

"Yes..."

 

His lips parted, and suddenly, he found a gag shoved between them. "Sweet," the voice was grating, and Adrien felt a chill race down his spine, a chill that he really, really hoped wasn't actually a worm or insect of some sort. A spider would be fine though... wait, what was he thinking? 

 

"Adrien!" Ladybug cried out, her hand going for her weapon, before something grabbed her wrist, just as Adrien blacked out. 

 


	13. Chapter 13

Marinette woke up to a dark room, and glanced around at the walls, splattered with blood, and parts of what were once people, people with families, and jobs, and dreams, and lives... 

 

Now they were just piles of gore that nobody in their right mind would want to go near. 

 

It was kind of sad, Marinette contemplated. Even their own family members, if any still lived- which she had to admit was unlikely- wouldn't recognize them now. Even those they had loved best, those who had loved them best, wouldn't know. It really was sad, to her. 

 

Would Adrien look like that someday?

 

She shivered at the mental image, looking away from the pile of gore, to see the boy himself, slumped over, tied to a chair, a mop of blond hair hiding the horror show of his face very well. "Adrien!" she called out. "Adrien, are you okay?" 

 

The head moved jerkily, and he looked up at her, meeting her eyes. "Marinette...? You're alive? What are you doing here? Where... where's Ladybug?" 

 

Her heart nearly stopped at the sound of her own name, her eyes going wide, and her hands twitching, desperate to touch her face, and feel for her mask, but they were bound behind her... and anyway, it wasn't as though she wasn't pretty sure she knew what they would find. 

 

"My mask is gone," she murmured. "Isn't it, Chaton?"

 

His eye went wide. "My Lady?" he breathed softly. "I... Marinette? You've been beside me this whole time?" he looked astonished, as though it just couldn't possibly be true... she couldn't be real, she couldn't be here with him, she just couldn't...

 

"I'm here, Adrien," she offered him a tiny smile. "It's me... your friend from school. Guess we both survived the initial wave of attacks, huh?"

 

"I knew you would survive," he said instantly. "I knew it, I was so certain you'd be a survivor. I looked everywhere for you, that first week. I mean, you've always been such a good fighter, there was no way a few zombies could overpower you so easily... but I couldn't find you... I guess I understand why now. I'm so glad you're alive, Marinette. I missed you."

 

Her heart fluttered in her chest, cheeks flushed brightly. "You were looking for me? Like, Marinette-me?" 

 

"Well, of course, you were one of my best friends... and the one I thought was probably going to live," he confessed, glancing away. "Wait... hang on, if Ladybug was in my class and fell in love with me... and you're Ladybug..." A dangerous smirk crossed his lips. "Then that mysterious crush you always talked about was... who, exactly?" he asked, very smugly, as he tilted his head. "I mean, it can't possibly have been, oh I don't know, yours truly?" 

 

"Chat. Shut. Up." 

 

He laughed brightly. "Oh my god! Marinette Dupain-Cheng stole my phone! And I helped her get it back in my locker! Holy shit!" 

 

"Stop it Adrien! Why, why, why do I like you...?"

 

"Because I'm... what was it? 'Handsome, kind, friendly, charming, and so totally perfect in every possible way! Oh my god Alya I'm gonna die!'" he mocked lightly, smile brighter than the sun. Marinette couldn't even really bring herself to feel that embarrassed... if it made him this happy, it wasn't the worst thing ever, she supposed. "At least I wasn't constantly begging you for attention! 'Hey my Lady, look at me! Oh, Bugaboo, watch me take out this zombie with my eyes closed! Buginette, pay attention! My Lady, my Lady, my Lady, my Lady, my Lady!'" she mimicked right back, giggling brightly. 

 

"You're both annoying. Can we get on with this?"

 

They turned to see a man in a bloodstained lab coat, smiling coldly as he sharpened his fingernails with what seemed to be an extraordinarily sharp knife, stepping towards the pair of them. 

 

"Bridgette, my dear little lucky girl, are you getting this all on camera?"

 

"Yes Doctor Mallory Plagg Sir! Every last cut in the best colored high definition for Mr. Gabriel Agreste's viewing pleasure!" the zombie girl chirped happily, aiming the camera towards the two teenagers and biting her lip in anticipation. 

 

"And Félix?"

 

"He didn't want to come. Said something about how we need morality or we're no better than our enemies, children being innocent, them being victims as much as we are... I love Fé, like, a lot, but you know, sometimes he just goes off on these incredibly longwinded tangents about the most insane psychological things that literally nobody has ever heard of or cares about, and then it can be kind of impossible to get him to stop talking. Boys, you know." 

 

"That's not... what are you going to do with us?" Marinette asked. There would be time to chastise Bridgette about healthy relationships with her datemates later, if they managed to survive this. 

 

"Well," the man in the labcoat said, flashing a smile. "I think we'll use you first. We're going to cut that pretty, pretty face of yours into a much more permanent look... a smile, I think. Girls like you, pretty girls, should smile more, don't you think Mr. Adrien Agreste?" 

 

Adrien looked stricken. "Don't hurt her," he said softly. "Please, sir, I'll do anything you want, anything at all, but please, please, I'm begging you, don't hurt her! She didn't do anything wrong, please sir, you need to have a heart, please..." 

 

"I don't need to do anything. And that's 'Doctor,' to you, kid," Dr. Mallory Plagg smirked down at him. "Yes, I think a smile will do very nicely. And maybe clipping out that nasty little tongue of hers, that tongue that tells things far too clever for a young girl to be thinking about. Yes, I like that idea, don't you, Bridgette, dear?"

 

"Don't call me dear," she sneered. "Only Fé gets to call me dear. But yes, I think your ideas are fantastic!" 

 

Dr. Mallory Plagg finished sharpening his knife, and stepped closer to Marinette's chair. "Yes. I agree," he whispered, holding the blade to the corner of Marinette's mouth, and slicing it up through her cheek. 


	14. Chapter 14

Félix looked up at Bridgette's beaming face, her eyes brighter red than ever, and felt a surge of sadness. He wasn't going to show it of course, but that didn't mean it wasn't there in spades. The woman he loved was letting herself become a worse monster than he'd imagined.

 

"She screams so prettily," Bridgette laughed, sitting beside him on the steps, her hair blowing in the wind. "You really need to get over yourself and come in to help us, it's not as if they don't deserve it, for killing us."

 

"They aren't the ones who killed us, my Queen."

 

"Yeah, but they work for the guy who did."

 

"They're kids, Bridgette. What you've been doing with that man is wrong."

 

She pouted, leaning against his shoulder. "Fé, you're such a buzzkill sometimes..."

 

"Bridgette. Please don't go back in there."

 

She seemed to contemplate what he was saying for a moment, gnawing at her lip, something she'd mostly stopped doing since she realized how fast that made the tissue wear away. "Fé, I'm starving. I can't think things through like you can, you know? I didn't take to the cure. This feels good, Fé. Really, really, good. I can't..."

 

"Yes you can," he took her hand. "You underestimate Bridgette Dexter. I did that once, and you know what she did?"

 

She tilted her head. "Remind me...?"

 

He felt a punch in the gut at the realization that she didn't know. She didn't realize what he was talking about... she'd forgotten.

 

"She dragged me out of my room and into school. She made me stay at my desk, and made me feel like someone would care if I lived or died for the first time. She can do a lot... but only because she actually gives a shit about people. Torture isn't you, Bridgette. Stop it."

...

 

The world, for Marinette, was pain.

 

The corners of her mouth were torn up in a permanent grin, her right earlobe was missing, her left torn, and the carvings that covered her body left strips of flesh hanging off by a thread. She was pretty sure it'd be very easy to mistake her for a zombie at this point. She was lucky they hadn't followed through with the plan to cut out her tongue.

 

But right now, the doctor and his assistant were out of the room, and she could breathe.

 

"Mari," Adrien whispered. "Are you alive?"

 

"Yes," she replied softly. "I'm alive. I don't want to be." She looked to him. "Adrien... Adrien, please kill me..."

 

"I can't, I'm still tied. I'm so sorry," his words were heavy, as if he was choking back tears. "Marinette..."

 

"Imprint on me," she begged, looking him in the eye, her own eyes filling with pain. "If you get the imprint, you'll be strong enough to break the ropes to eat me."

 

"You... don't ask that of me, please," he whispered, knowing it was selfish, but unable to give in to that. He couldn't lose himself... he couldn't eat her.

 

"I... I'm sorry. Adrien, I want to die so bad..." she whispered, tears streaking down her cheeks, the saltwater burning the lacerations in her cheeks. "I can't move... everything hurts... he'll be coming back soon to do worse..." she felt her body shaking with fear and despair. "We need to get out of here..."

 

He nodded, looking away, as light spilled into the room.

 

Dr. Mallory Plagg stepped in, smiling. "Gabriel Agreste has seen the footage. How does that make you two feel? Hopeful? Do you think the cavalry is going to come and save you now? Did you get a little endorphin rush that we humans like to call happiness?" He smiled, cutting the rope that held Marinette's left wrist, and lifting her hand. She tried to pull it away, but three days of torture and no food had significantly lowered her strength.

"Don't!" Adrien cried out, when he saw the scalpel flash in the light. "Don't hurt her anymore! How much longer are you going to keep hurting her? Why won't you use me? I'm his son! I'm his child, it'll hurt him more, why won't you turn the knife on me? Are you too much of a coward?"

 

"Adrien, stop..."

 

"No, I want an answer! Why does he have to keep hurting you? I'm right here! He took me too, what was the point of that if he was just going to tie me up and not do anything?"

 

"Quiet, Agreste," Dr. Mallory Plagg snapped. "You aren't the one I want to hurt. You..." he dropped the scalpel, moving over to caress Adrien's rotted cheek. "Why, you are my most precious little one. My little kitten. The first sample of a fully sentient undead. The first to be fully cured of the disease that they call death. Why on earth would I ever dream of harming you?"

 

Adrien shuddered at the doctor's touch, but didn't pull away. The longer he kept Plagg's attentions, the longer Marinette could go without being ripped apart by his dark, deathly sharp blade. "I wasn't aware that you had anything to do with my state of living, Dr. Plagg. Can you please explain?"

 

"Yes, I suppose Gabriel Agreste wouldn't have told you," Dr. Mallory Plagg smiled, almost affectionately, if his teeth were not quite so sharp. "I was one of the two lead scientists in the project to bring back your mother. The cure to death... it was my baby. My legacy. My mark on Paris, and on the entire world. But the first draft didn't pan out like it was meant to... unfortunately, it was quite a disaster with the beautiful Irene. But with you..." he twisted a lock of Adrien's hair around his finger. "Oh, my. You may have lost your beauty, Adrien, but you gained freedom. Immortality, if you use it right."

 

"Immortality? But I'm rotting. I'll be nothing more than dust within a decade..."

Plagg laughed, ruffling Adrien's hair. "Only if you starve yourself. If you feed... then as long as you suck the life from the others, your body will heal. Maybe you can even reach some semblance of humanity again. You do not have to die... if you kill."

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

Gabriel watched the video in horror, shaking his head slightly. "That... oh god, Adrien..." he ran a hand through his hair... well, he tried to, before it snagged in his hair gel. "My son in the hands of a madman... shit, why did I...?"

 

Because Irene. Because Adrien. Because he wanted to bring his family back together.

 

Gabriel began pulling on his armored clothes, along with the face mask that would protect him from... well, from his wife and child. He could sit back while Paris died, but there was no way in hell he'd sit back while his son was hurt.

 

...

 

Marinette looked up at the doctor... the monster before her.

 

"Wait, no, I still don't understand-" Adrien called, trying to stop him in his tracks, trying to stall more, and save her from torture. She closed her eyes, tears making tiny rivers down her cheeks as she shivered in pain, and fear.

 

"I'll explain later," Dr. Mallory Plagg smirked. "See, the girl is almost prepped for her medicine."

 

"Medicine?" Adrien laughed, desperately. "Tell me about that! I know you're dying to, you love having someone listen as much as any genius who isn't appreciated! Come now, surely you want to give a monologue or something?"

 

"Adrien," Marinette whispered. "Nobody's coming to save us. He's not a super villain in a comic book. He won't give a monologue and give us enough time to escape."

 

"But, I-"

 

"I love you, Adrien," she would have given him a smile if her face wasn't carved into one already. "I hope we live thr-" she was cut off by her own scream as the scalpel carved her hand. "No! Please! PLEASE!"

 

Her finger hit the floor with a thud.

 

...

 

"Fé... do you mean it?"

 

"Mean what?"

 

"That torture isn't me?" Bridgette looked into his eyes. "That I'm stronger than this?"

 

"Obviously," he rolled his eyes. "I don't say things that I don't mean. You should know that by now."

 

"Then we should find Agreste," she murmured, taking his hand, the one that was still on the end of his arm. "Because if we don't... well, then we aren't a lot better, are we, Fé?"

 

Félix looked her over carefully, and leaned in, kissing her softly. "That's my Bridgette. Right there. Still better than me in every way, it just took you a moment to get there."

 

She laughed softly, almost terrified. "Fé... will he destroy us? What if we're going to our deaths?"

 

"I'll protect you. Don't I always?"

 

"Well..." she tugged at the end of a ponytail. "Most of the time. And that's good enough for me."

 

He took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Then lets get going before they die."

 

...

 

Adrien was helpless but to watch in horror as the stub of Marinette's finger twitched, the bone broken off in the middle. She was screaming and crying, begging to be released, but she would not be. Not now. Not soon. He hadn't been able to save her, and now, Dr. Mallory Plagg seemed to be prepping a vial of something sick...

 

"Please..." his voice was a rasp. "Just kill her. Don't condemn her to be like me."

 

Dr. Mallory Plagg seemed highly amused at this request, turning around, green eyes- eyes that seemed to glow- narrowed with laughter. "You know, usually it's the opposite. Begging for the life of a loved one, not the death. You're not a very good boyfriend, are you Agreste?"

 

He shook his head. "No, I'm not. Please, end her suffering. Please, stop this..."

"She won't be harmed after this," Plagg grinned. "What, you think I held some kind of vendetta against the girl? No, there just has to be such a huge amount of excess endorphins flooding the body for this particular medication to work, torture was the only way to naturally produce them. And it needed to be directly inserted into the bone, you see? I may be mad, but I am still a scientist, and one of the highest caliber. The torture... well, that was just good luck for me, I got to have a bit of fun with this experiment. And isn't she a pretty one?" He tilted her chin up. "I may have to kiss her before she rots..."

 

"Don't you dare!"

 

Dr. Mallory Plagg cackled, letting her face drop. "Don't worry. I don't intend to. But I am going to save her," he promised, lifting the vial, and inserting it into her exposed bone.

 

Marinette's screams could have easily woken the dead at that point, if the dead had not already been awake.

 

...

 

Gabriel met Bridgette's eyes, and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'll give you anything you want, I'll give you my life, just let my son go, please, I beg of you."

 

She seemed to hesitate, eyes flickering with emotion as she squeezed Félix's hand. "You're lucky. I'm more human than you ever were. I'll take you to where they are, I think he's done with her at this point anyway."

 

Gabriel nodded, scarcely caring if he was walking into a trap or not as he dashed after the girl who knew where his son was.

 

...

 

Marinette's eyes opened to find herself being unbound by the blond zombie who was not Adrien... the one who'd attacked them. "Don't forgive us what we've done," he whispered. "But please know, she's been destroyed by Agreste. She doesn't know what she's doing. It may be no excuse, but it's true. And... I never knew he planned to do this to you. You can never die."

 

With those words, Marintte felt herself lose consciousness again, falling into darkness.


	16. Chapter 16

Marinette woke up to the stench of death, eyes opening to see the corpse who's arms were wrapped around her tightly, as he watched over her. "Hey, my Lady," Adrien murmured, stroking her cheek. "Are you okay? We stitched you up, you'll scar... a lot, but you shouldn't be, you know, hindered by this? Ugh, I don't know what to say, I am so sorry that I let this happen, it's all my fault, I should have protected you better than I did, I-"

She put her hand up, managing to sloppily cover his mouth, and wondering when she got so comfortable being near a zombie's teeth. "Chat. Sweetie. Shut up, I have a headache." 

He probably would have been red if he still had the capabilities to blush. "I- I'm sorry, I just- I-" 

"If you have to do something with your mouth, just kiss me."

Adrien's bad eye popped out, hitting her chest. Marinette couldn't hold back a scream of shock, before quickly regretting it, feeling her stitches. "Oww..." 

"I'm so sorry Marinette, I didn't mean to, should I get Father?" Adrien scooped up his eye, popping it back into his head quickly. 

"No, I'm okay," she said quickly. "I mean, I know you can't help it, and I'm in love with you, and you're pretty and, um, uh... Oh my god, why does having you know who I am make me act like this all over again?" she groaned, burying her face in her hands. "You're probably going to start laughing any second, and then I'll have to go sacrifice myself to the zombies to avoid total humiliation, and-"

She was cut off by lips against her own. It didn't exactly taste nice, and it felt strange, but... wow, she didn't want it to end. She buried her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, and laughing against his lips. "Adrien," she whispered. "I didn't expect our first kiss to happen like this, but I can't exactly object."  
He broke the kiss, smiling awkwardly up at her, running a hand through his hair. "You liked it?" 

"I loved it," she smiled up at him awkwardly. "I really did. And I... I really do love you Adrien. A lot." 

"I love you a lot too," he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, looking down. "I mean... I wish I could say anything would come of it, you know? That we can have a future, or a life, or something... I wish it weren't hopeless..." he stared at his hands. "I wish I wasn't the reason we can never be together." 

"Adrien..." 

"Marinette." 

There was a crash. 

...

Gabriel looked up to see the two teenagers who had been fighting the apocalypse harder than maybe anyone staring at him as he tried to destroy the only hope of ending it. 

"Father...?" Adrien murmured, stepping forward, looking at the contamination unit. "What... is that?" He reached a hand towards it. 

"Don't!" 

Adrien pulled his hand back quickly, surprise flitting across what remained of his features. "What is it? And why can't I touch it? It isn't as if poison has any effect on me, and it's clearly not acidic, or you wouldn't use a containment unit like that."

"It would cause you to fall down dead. Inanimate." 

"It can do that?" Adrien raised an eyebrow. "Why were you trying to set it on fire? That stuff could be incredibly useful." 

Gabriel wasn't exactly sure how to get out of this one. 

"He doesn't want a cure, does he?" a feminine voice came from the window. 

Gabriel spun to see a girl, young and smiling, with red braids and freckles, bright blue eyes, and horrible scars marring her face, neck, and chest. "Dr. Luck... how?"

"As if Mallory wouldn't have a better vaccine than you could ever make on hand," the woman sneered. "Gabriel, Dr. Mallory Plagg never leaves loose ends. Those two kids are exactly how he wanted them to be."  
"What the hell is going on?" Adrien demanded. "What is this mess? Dad, what is she talking about?" 

"Adrien," the girl smiled coldly. "Your father loves you very much. That's why he'd rather doom all of Paris than snatch away that one last little spark of life left in your broken, withered, ugly corpse."

Marinette clenched a fist, stepping forward, but Gabriel put out an arm, keeping her back, addressing the young doctor himself. "Tikki."

"That's Dr. Luck to you."

"Dr. Luck," he restarted. "My son is not broken, withered, or ugly. He's a shining beacon of the human race, and I refuse to allow harm to befall him."

"Then Plagg wins," Dr. Luck shrugged. "You can't use the cure."

"Wait, hang on, don't I get a say in this?" Adrien piped up. 

"No," Gabriel snapped, stepping up to the window Dr. Tikki Luck was perched upon. "Dr. Luck, to be entirely frank, I don't give a damn about this city so long as those I love survive. I refuse to let my son die a second time." 

Dr. Tikki Luck smiled blithely. "Oh, Gabriel... turn the fuck around."

Gabriel turned just in time to see his son grab the bag with the cure off the table, grab the girl's hand, and pull her out of the room. 

Well shit.

...

If Adrien's heart still worked it would be beating about a hundred miles a minute, but as it was, he had nothing to feel pounding in his chest to ground him from the complete terror of what he knew he was going to have to- what his honor, what his soul screamed at him that he had to- do. 

"Adrien, wait!" Marinette screamed, pulling him to a stop outside the manor. "How do you even work this cure thing? Where are we running to? We only have one bag of that stuff, Adrien, and we need to be smart with it!"

He gave her a long look, before the realization dawned on him... that yeah, actually, she was absolutely right. 

"I know a safe house," he murmured, running a hand through his hair. "Let's see if it's still safe."


	17. Chapter 17

Mallory Plagg claimed he had no past he cared about. He'd always spoken of the future, even from the time he was a child... but even stating that gave proof to the hint that his past was far from impenetrable.

 

Mallory Plagg was born in a small town that he really couldn't tell you the name of, the son of a crack addict who hadn't even realized she was pregnant until she was having the baby. The fact that he survived was a miracle in and of itself, and his surviving the next several years was nothing short of incredible.

 

When he was five years old, his baby sister was beaten to death, and child services came to take him away from his mother. He still didn't know who, exactly, had killed Michaela, The police had arrested his stepfather, the dealer who had consistently slapped him around, though never harming his mother beyond sending her into a drugged-up haze, but Mallory thought it was just as likely that his mother, who tended to go crazy trying to choke people when she was high, had gotten to his sister... or that he himself had walked into a room full of smoke, come out with hallucinations, and mistaken the little girl for a doll that wouldn't stop crying, and smashed her head against the wall until she stopped.

 

Her death was a blessing to Mallory though. Well, almost.

 

He had to admit, foster care was better than the crack house. Not infinitely, but a fair bit, and being ignored except for meals was a huge step up from what his mother and stepfather tended to do.

 

He met a boy there. A boy as broken as he was. A friend.

 

Nobody could ever figure out exactly how the fire in the foster home started, but they knew that an exhausted, blank-faced seven-year-old was the only survivor, and he never shed a single tear.

 

In his next home, he had access to an education for the first time, and showed an amazing tendency towards chemistry and physics. He was given a birthday party, his first birthday party, when he turned eight, and he asked for a dissection kit.

 

He became almost obsessed with how he could electrocute muscles to move the corpses of dead creatures. Neighborhood cats began to vanish- just cats, nothing else. Cats were his favorite. He said they walked between worlds better than any other animal. Unfortunately, even cats could only go for so long before the electricity started to mummify them.

 

When Anaise MacIntire found her foster son's closet full of the corpses of the missing cats, she called the police.

 

Mallory was eleven, and spent every moment he could in Juvenile Hall working, and planning his experiments. He befriended the chemistry teacher easily, a man who was sure this young genius was just misunderstood.

 

Then the first boy went missing.

 

Sylvester Adams would never forget the sight of the three bodies lined up against a wall, as a fourth reached out towards him with pleading eyes, moaning something inaudible, before collapsing, dead as the rest.

 

An autopsy would show that the fourth had been dead over a week.

 

The papers said that eighty three were dead in the fire that engulfed the Juvenile Hall, but really, it was only eighty two. A fourteen-year-old boy's laughter was heard in the ashes, whispering. "I did it... he was back for a minute... I'm almost there, I'm almost there, I'm almost there!"

 

The papers called him "Doctor Death." That was the only kind of doctorate that Dr. Mallory Plagg ever got, and as far as he was concerned, the only kind he needed. He wore the title with pride, and left his exhibits where other professionals could study them. People seemed to have no idea how the bodies were still moving, especially the ones that he allowed to rot for a bit, but laughed it off as robotics, and a sick, sick minded killer. Dr. Mallory Plagg was a bit hurt by this. Nobody seemed to care about his genius, only seeing the violence of it, not how he'd managed to bring something dead for two weeks back into a state that mocked life. It was tragedy, how close-minded people could be.

 

What killed him, though, was how quickly the electric circulatory systems failed. They only lasted for up to three minutes, which was still amazing, especially for a seventeen-year-old, But he had so little access to a real lab, a place to test his theories and work with new chemicals, run new tests on new subjects.

 

That was when he ran into Gabriel Agreste, who had been looking for him for quite a long time.

 

The lab was amazing, with everything he could ever ask for supplied. His partner was a lovely woman who, though ten years older than him, still seemed almost childlike, and didn't seem to realize his youth. That was how Dr. Mallory Plagg liked it. He was treated as a scientist, instead of a helpless child, a pesky fly, or a horrifying monster. He could work in peace, and each time he made a breakthrough, Gabriel Agreste would praise him to no end, and thank him, and hand him a hefty paycheck. Dr. Mallory Plagg knew for a fact that he was going to be the one to conquer death. He was going to conquer death, and then he could care about people again, just as soon as he was sure that there was no way for them to leave him.

 

At least, until Irene worked- she worked!- and Gabriel was dissatisfied, and started talking about a cure.

 

A cure to kill what Dr. Mallory Plagg had spent his life trying to create.

 

Of course he let Irene out. Of course he let her into the school where Gabriel's son went. It was the only way he could think of to be absolutely certain that he could preserve his life's work.

 

And now... now the little brat wanted to sacrifice his own life to destroy everything Mallory had worked for...

 

Not likely.


	18. Chapter 18

Adrien shut the door of the safe house tightly, locking all three latches and turning towards Marinette. "We have a little time now. Father won't think to look in Nino's old house, and his parents were paranoid as fuck."

 

"Why not Nino's place? You guys were like, the dynamic duo, won't he come here first?"

 

Adrien rolled his eye. "Have you met my father? I don't think he's recognize Nino's name, much less check his house. He didn't care about the things that wouldn't advance my future."

 

She frowned slightly. "Adrien... you're going to die if we go through with this. Should we really do it?"

 

He nodded stoically. "I won't die. You can't kill what's already dead."

 

"Adrien I'm serious!" she shook her head. "I don't want to lose you. What about us?" She took his hand. "What about me? Don't you want to stay with me? Is doing this really worth a world you're never going to see?"

 

"Yeah, it is," he met her eyes. "It's worth it. You're worth it."

 

"Don't you dare make this about me, Adrien Agreste."

 

"It's always about you!" he snapped. "It's always about you. Everything I do, everything I fight for, it's all for you. It's all because I love you, Marinette. Ladybug. My lady." He looked away. "I want a bright, shining world for you. And that's easily worth my own life. Okay?"

 

She shook her head, looking away. "I... I'm not so sure."

 

"Think of all the kids who would be safe. The families that we could save. We agreed to fight with our lives for this, and I... I'm not backing out. Not now, when the end is so close. Not now, when we have a way to save everyone. Not now, when the only cost to forever is one little body, a body that was supposed to be dead a long time ago anyway."

 

"Yours."

 

"Mine."

 

"I can't go through with this," she took his hand. "I can't. Please don't make me give you up."

 

He tilted his head. "You mean like that Rick Astley song?"

 

"What?"

 

"Never gonna give you up! Never gonna let you down!"

 

"Are you serious right now?"

 

"Never gonna run around and desert you!"

 

"Adrien stop. This is serious."

 

He shrugged, leaning against the window. "We don't actually have a plan to distribute this stuff yet, you know? So why do we need to take it all so seriously? It's not real yet. We don't have a way to do it, so why not just work as hard as we can until we either have a way to do it or give in?"

 

"Because I have a plan…"

 

He looked surprised for a split second, before a bittersweet smile traced his lips. "Of course you do. You would, wouldn't you? Alright, lets hear it."

 

She nodded. "Well... you remember Nathanael, right?” Suddenly, her eyes went wide. “Adrien… wait a sec, I think I have a way to save you!”

 

...

 

Félix watched Bridgette start to break down, and felt a pain in his chest that didn't come from the rot.

 

"Look at me," she growled into the mirror. "I'm ugly."

 

"You're not ugly-"

 

"You don't give a fuck," she turned to him, the skin on her face rotting away. "You don't care! You've always been cold and you never actually loved me!"

 

"That's not true-"

 

"The hell it's not!" she touched her hair, clumps coming out. "I'm dying, Félix! I just want to die! And you won't even kill me, you fucker! If you love me then kill me!"

 

He stroked her cheek, as his fingers fell to the ground, and kissed her lips. "Okay."

 

"Snap my neck."

 

"Are you sure?"

 

She nodded. "I don't want to be this any longer. I don't want to be this."

 

"You'll leave me alone..."

 

"Come with me."

 

Félix hesitated, looking into the rotten puddles that should have been clear grey eyes. "Okay. My Queen."

 

Her head came off easily, and he fell to his knees over her body, curling up beside her and taking a knife from his pocket.

 

It went through his eye. Then there was nothing left of Félix Malheur but darkness, and a pile of rotten body parts held together by strings of flesh that would soon snap.

 

So nothing really.

 

...

 

Adrien and Marinette stood in front of a dilapidated old house, nervously.

 

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Adrien asked hesitantly. "It looks like a crack house."

 

She glanced at him. "Um, how do you know what a crack house is, Adrien?"

 

"When I was growing up I had no friends and unrestricted access to the internet. I know what a crack house is, I know what BDSM is, I know what hentai is-"

 

"What's hentai?"

 

"You don't need to know about that."

 

Marinette flicked her gaze over him. "Is it a sex thing or a drugs thing?"

 

"Sex thing."

 

"You watch porn?!" she cried as the door swung open to reveal a very disheveled looking Nathanael Kurtzberg.

 

Nathanael was tired. He'd been up for three nights, and he wasn't in the mood to see the girl he liked screaming about porn with the zombie corpse of the guy who she liked, on his doorstep, for no discernible reason. In fact, if he had his way, that scene would never have played out at all, much less right in front of him.

 

But Nathanael didn't have a lot of luck. He didn't have any, to be honest. Nathanael's life had been a long series of bad choices and poor consequences, along with strokes of misfortune that there was no way he could have possibly prevented. This fell into the latter category, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to his next question...

 

"What do you want, Marinette?"

 

She perked up, smile bright as the sun. "I would like two bombs please, with three-minute timers implanted!"

 

"Wait, what?" the zombie-Adrien asked in surprise.

 

"How is the zombie talking, Marinette?"

 

"Gee, it's great to see you too..."

 

"Adrien had a vaccination. They don't actually cause-"

 

"Marinette, what's going on?"

 

She took a deep breath, and smiled. "We have a cure for the zombie virus. And all we have to do is scale a water tower, throw it in, and blow it up."


	19. Chapter 19

Adrien took Marinette's hand, and took a deep breath, knowing it would be one of his last ever.

 

Not that that meant he wasn't ready. He was prepared to die. He'd already died for her once... and this time, it wasn't just her he was going to die for. It was the whole world.

 

As they ran, Adrien looked down at the street, recognizing the bodies of the two zombies who his father had destroyed. The zombies who had once been kids. and had once had lives, and goals, and plans. They were wanted once. Or he hoped they had been... maybe not. Maybe they were always going to be destined for an anonymous death on the streets. It wasn't like he knew how his father had managed to convince them to go into anonymous testing...

 

"Ready?" he asked Marinette softly.

 

"If you are."

 

"I am. Kiss me?"

 

For a moment, Adrien didn't think she was going to do it, but then she leaned in and covered his lips with hers, throwing all her fear, worry, and love into the kiss, a perfect kiss. A last kiss.

 

He wasn't even eighteen yet and he was having his last kiss. That struck him as unfair... but he was doing it for her, for his city, for Paris. And... and for those kids who should never have been pulled in from who knows where and turned into the monsters he knew them as.

 

As Marinette pulled away, Adrien closed his eyes. "That wasn't a last kiss," she told him quietly. "That was a 'lets kick this apocalypse's ass and get you out of it alive' kiss. I swear."

 

"I know," he whispered. "I believe you..." he looked up, taking in the bit of the city he could still see. "The water tower is close. We can get there in three minutes running. Wanna race me?"

 

Her smile was bittersweet. "I'll beat you."

 

"I know."

 

"Let's do it."

 

...

 

She climbed up the water tower, heart pounding. "Adrien, you should start running."

 

"Not without you."

 

"Adrien, don't be stupid!"

 

He shook his head again. "You need me to get the tower open."

 

She bit her lip, and nodded, as they scaled the tower together. This had better work... they better be able to get inside in three minutes, and then she could call for an extraction team to get Adrien out of Paris... the cure wouldn't reach the inside, not if they locked the apartment up... they would be fine. He would be fine. He had to be, there was no other option.

 

There wasn't.

 

Adrien climbed up to the top of the water tower, and ripped into it, teeth strong and sharp, pulling at the opening, bending the lock, bending, bending...

 

SNAP!

 

He threw the opening down. "Ready!" He took a deep breath. "I'm ready to die."

 

"Too bad, I'm not ready for you to die!" Marinette called up after him.

 

"You weren't meant to hear that!"

 

Marinette scrambled up, kissed Adrien's cheek hesitantly. "Are you positive you want this, Adrien?"

 

"It's a risk," he murmured. "But it's a risk I need to take."

 

Marinette nodded, as she opened the bag, dumping the cure into the water tower, and hitting the timers on the bombs. "Lets go. Fast."

 

Adrien grabbed her hand, scrambling down the ladder as fast as he could. The apartment. They had to get to the apartment...

 

"Ahh!" Marinette screamed as she slipped, and Adrien turned, grabbing her arm.

 

"I've got you! Grab the ladder!"

 

"Adrien, we need to run!"

 

"Grab the ladder!"

 

She grabbed the ladder, climbing down to the ground, and soon, Adrien's feet touched the ground after her, Marinette sobbing, clutching his hand as she ran, pulling him after her.

 

There was no time.

 

"I'm so sorry Adrien! I'm so-"

 

He cut her off, pulling her into a kiss, tears running down his face. "I love you. Live, please."

 

The mist covered the city, and all around them, zombies fell dead. Marinette jumped on Adrien, trying desperately, futilely to cover him. "Adrien, don't, you can't just leave me like this, please, Adrien!"

 

"I love you," he whispered, looking up at her, and smiling softly, before his one clear eye glassed over.

 

Marinette clung to his body, tears streaking down her face, the events of the past week crashing over her, as she kissed his lips. "Goodbye," she whispered, stroking his rotted cheek. "I love you. I will always love you."

 

"Mari..." it was barely a whisper, but it was there. "Don't... wanna die... hurts..."

 

She gasped. "Adrien! You're still...?" she whispered as the mist began to melt away.

 

"N-no," he whispered. "Not... can't see... can't move..."

 

"Adrien..."

 

"Run," he begged her. "I'm so... so hungry... need to feed... need to heal..."

 

Her heart nearly stopped. "You need human flesh... so you can survive this?"

 

"Marinette, no! Run!" His eye snapped open, as his flesh began falling away. "Run!"

 

She took a deep breath, and held her left wrist to his lips. "Feed, Adrien."

 

The pain was unbearable. She couldn't keep herself from screaming, and begging for release, begging him to kill her, trying to pull away...

 

But then, the blood became too much, and her heart stopped.

 

...

 

Adrien looked more human than he had in months, injuries healed, skin smooth, and eyes clear. Undead, but not rotten. But his heart felt emptier than it ever had.

 

For Marinette was sitting in front of him, her arm a mess of blood and bone, and her face gaunt. He'd fed from her.

 

"I love you," she promised softly. "I love you more than you can imagine. And now we're together... forever."

 

He shook his head in shock and horror as she leaned in, kissing his lips.

 

"And you're beautiful again," she murmured. "We can rot together."

 

"Marinette..."

 

"Don't," she murmured. "Mon chaton... it's Ladybug. Forever."

 

...

 

The team extracted them, and they had to answer many questions before relocation. Marinette's family was dead, and Adrien's father was in jail...

 

And Paris was in ruins.

 

But they knew that they could keep up the façade of humanity. After all, they still had the masks, and they didn't have to rot...

 

They could hunt evil once more, evil humans...

 

The criminals were aplenty. And Ladybug and Chat Noir would feed.


	20. Chapter 20

Credits: 

Story- sophiacrutchfeild.tumblr.com

Art- toriistorii.tumblr.com

Beta'd by- reallyfreakinclever.tumblr.com, chatbug-jk.tumblr.com


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